


Assignation

by Shadaras



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-06
Updated: 2018-10-06
Packaged: 2019-07-24 09:54:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16172717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadaras/pseuds/Shadaras
Summary: Jyn Erso has been an agent of Mon Mothma's rebellion since Cassian rescued her from the bunker where Saw abandoned her three years ago. Now, she gets her first long-term assignment, and it's far more than she ever expected.





	Assignation

**Author's Note:**

  * For [spacewitchescantdie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/spacewitchescantdie/gifts).



Jyn knocked on Mon Mothma’s door. “Ma’am? You called for me?”

“Come in,” Mon Mothma called. She had to have been waiting, poised and undistracted, for Jyn’s arrival; she’d responded too soon to be in the middle of something else. Unsurprising. She had specified the meeting time. The only potential complication would be if another meeting had run late.

Jyn entered Mon Mothma’s office. It was organized, but not spotless: Files were neatly stacked but ragged edges poked out; uneaten breakfast languished on a table; three different newcasts ran, muted, in the background.

Mon Mothma sat behind her desk, another chair at a calculated angle in front of it. “Please, sit.”

Jyn did so, still silent. Still watching.

As soon as she sat, Mon Mothma started talking. “I’m sending you on a long-term assignment to Coruscant as a bodyguard for a political asset.” Mon Mothma shuffled papers on her desk. Jyn knew it was a ploy, a buffer—Mon knew exactly where every paper in her desk was, and could have had this one on top if she’d wanted that power play. “You will pose as a personal assistant and friend.”

At the last statement, Jyn froze for a moment. Only a moment, because shock was a vulnerability. Carefully, Jyn shook her head. “I don’t think this is a good idea.”

“You’re the right age and have the right accent,” Mon Mothma said wearily. “You know how to move in any clothing you might need to wear. You also know how to hide ten knives and three blasters on your person while only wearing one layer of clothing, which is frankly astonishing.”

Jyn blinked. She hadn’t thought Mon knew about that.

Catching her look, Mon smiled wryly. “Cassian mentioned it when he suggested you for this mission.”

“Oh.” Jyn looked down at her hands. They didn’t fidget, because that was a tell, and tells could get you killed. “Why are you briefing me, then?”

“Because the person you would be protecting is very dear to me, and because Cassian might listen if you said no.” Mon Mothma leaned forward over her desk, looking straight into Jyn’s eyes as she raised her head in response to Mon’s movement. “Let me be very clear, Jyn. You have this opportunity because Cassian is vouching for you and I trust his judgement.”

Jyn met Mon’s eyes and straightened her back. “Ma’am.” Goosebumps shivered down her spine. The intensity of Mon’s gaze was something she had never seen before.

“I will not tolerate you risking her life. She is more important than you can know.” Mon’s face hardened. “Do you understand?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Somehow, Mon Mothma had made the assumption that she was accepting this mission. Jyn almost opened her mouth to refute that assumption, but— She was curious, she admitted to herself. Mon’s shift from talking about an asset to talking about a person— a girl, likely, from the comment on Jyn’s age. So instead, she asked, “What information can you give me?”

Mon gave her a sharp nod and a slight smile, and settled back into her seat. “You will be the companion of Princess Leia Organa, senator for Alderaan.”

Jyn’s mind raced. Alderaan. Its queen, Breha, and her husband, Bail, were founding members of the Rebel Alliance. Leia Organa followed in her parents’ footsteps. Leia was adopted. Alderaan argued for sentient rights throughout the galaxy, and for access to improved healthcare and schooling in impoverished communities. No wonder she needed a bodyguard. Jyn glanced down at the papers. “Will Leia know who I am?”

“Of course.” Mon Mothma smirked at Jyn’s slight blink of shock. “Besides being a senator, Leia is a deep-cover operative for the Rebellion. Is this truly a surprise?”

“Ma’am.” Jyn settled herself and drew breath. “Deep-cover operatives can operate together without knowing each others’ true identities.”

“It would make it more difficult for you both, in this case.” Mon passed a sheaf of papers across the desk. “I need you to trust each other. You cannot trust each other without knowing how deep your bonds to the Rebellion go.”

Jyn took the papers automatically. Before she could withdraw her hands, Mon placed hers upon Jyn’s. Her skin was so much softer than anyone else’s Jyn could remember feeling. Politician’s hands. Leia’s probably felt the same: uncalloused, painted, adorned with rings.

“Jyn, I need you to keep her safe.” Mon’s hands pressed against hers, stronger than Jyn had expected. Jyn swallowed and met Mon’s eyes, bright piercing blue, and remembered the steel that any successful politician had to be made of. “Promise me. Put her safety above any other mission.”

“I promise,” Jyn whispered. “May the Force hold me to it.”

The kyber crystal throbbed against her chest, two unexpected heartbeats.

“Good.” Mon released her hands. “Memorize your briefing. I will meet with you in three days to answer any further questions you have. You ship out in five days.”

Jyn stood and nodded sharply. “Yes, ma’am.”

Mon Mothma smiled at her, steel facade slipping a little. “May the Force be with you, Jyn. Dismissed.”

Jyn spun and returned to her room, heart racing. She hadn’t studied politicians for years. Hadn’t gone back to Coruscant since she was seven. Hadn’t gone on a long-term mission—she hadn’t missed how Mon hadn’t specified an end date, and she suspected that when she studied the material she wouldn’t find one—on her own in... pretty much ever. Saw had never allowed her one because he wanted to protect her. Once he abandoned her and she followed Cassian back to Mon’s section of the Rebel Alliance, they hadn’t yet trusted her until... well, until now.

In the safety of her quarters, before opening up her information packet, Jyn pulled out her datapad. She set it to project, and she called up an image of Princess Leia Organa.

A beautiful young woman’s head and shoulders materialized, her large eyes emphasized by her makeup, high cheekbones rouged to stand out against pale skin, hair intricately braided, and lips set in a smile that Jyn was sure was supposed to be soft. To Jyn, it just looked fierce, with the sparks in her eyes. She hadn’t quite grown into her features, but—

 _Fuck_ , Jyn thought, resigned. _She’s hot._

* * *

Not only did her initial reaction refuse to subside, it gained more depth as she read through Leia Organa’s file. The princess wasn’t just attractive; she was clearly intelligent and strong-willed, with a predisposition towards arguing for what she believed in. When Jyn read about all the scraps she’d gotten into as a child—and was no doubt getting into as a new senator—she felt warm satisfaction curl through her chest.

 _This_ was why Mon Mothma had asked her to protect Leia Organa. Not because she was weak, but because she needed someone who had her back absolutely, who would blend into the background until trouble began to blossom, and could cut it off before it reached the light. Undercover, she could do. Subtlety was harder, but for this little lion? She’d do her best. She couldn’t possibly be worse than the princess herself, after all.

As the shuttle swept into Coruscant, Jyn stared out the window at the cacophony of metal and light that slathered the planet’s crust. It was familiar, but even knowing—Coruscant was always bigger than the records, and her memory said it was big but a child’s recollection didn’t prepare her for an adult’s reality. Jyn closed her eyes and breathed, pulling her cover identity close.

Narilka “Nari” Hallik was a native of Coruscant who had been away on assignment to a minor Alderaani politician near the capitol. It was implied she had been spying on her for intentionally unspecified interested parties, and had either done good work or found enough blackmail to get a better assignment. She, like Jyn, was excited to return home, and looking forward to working for the Alderaani princess as a general aide and companion.

Just close enough to truth to keep the lies easy. She’d even visited Alderaan’s mountains with Cassian on a few training missions, and Mon Mothma had provided a few scenic holos Jyn could talk knowledgeably about to help people believe she’d really been there. It was more than enough. The only thing Mon Mothma hadn’t been able to provide was any prior contact with Leia—Nari had just been hired and wouldn’t know more than the newscasts and holonet information on Leia, and so Jyn wouldn’t either.

The Imperial Plaza filled the windows now. Jyn rolled her eyes internally; the Imperial propaganda machine was even more dramatic on its capitol planet. One statue of the Emperor Exultant wasn’t enough: there were three, facing out towards each corner of the plaza, so all shuttles would have to pass by the face of the Emperor on their approach. It was an effective reminder of who ruled here, and Jyn hated it.

Still, she peered out the window; the Alderaani senate office knew when she was arriving, and she wanted to see if Leia would come herself or delegate the work to some other aide. The distance meant it would be somewhere between difficult and impossible for her to see Leia, but anyone returning home would enjoy seeing the plaza. Nari might be an egocentric power-seeker, but she was a faithful Imperial citizen of Coruscant, with all the Emperor-worship that entailed.

So Jyn searched the plaza for any sign of Alderaani, while Nari murmured the Imperial Pledge to herself, just loud enough that the mics inevitably covering the embassy shuttle could pick it up. As Nari finished, Jyn spotted the Alderaani landing site, complete with waiting Alderaani. Three people. One wore white, and the other two wore a dark color Jyn figured was probably green. Most of Alderaan’s private military wore dark green in their formal uniforms. That meant the central figure was most likely Leia Organa herself.

“I must be quite a catch,” Jyn murmured, not caring if the mics heard. Spies would believe what they wanted to hear. They couldn’t catch the warmth in her heart; she’d been hoping that Leia was just as curious about her as she was about Leia, and it seemed that might just be true. She carefully pulled herself back from the window and fussed at her clothing: a practical dusk-blue dress and a silver-and-sky shawl wrapped around her head and shoulders in a rustic Alderaani fashion. She hadn’t quite tied it correctly, but because the exterior was alright Nari wouldn’t notice—or care.

As Jyn suspected, Leia and her escort noticed the moment Jyn stepped off the shuttle, her luggage floating behind her on a hovercart. Leia’s fingers switched, and Jyn caught the edge of a frown before Leia’s political training reasserted itself and she smiled. Jyn bowed formally and said, “Thank you for greeting me personally, Pr—Senator Organa.”

“Of course, Miss Hallik.” Leia’s voice was deeper than Jyn had expected. Even with recordings of speeches Leia had made, it wasn’t the same. Jyn straightened and met Leia’s eyes. Whatever Leia thought or felt, it was concealed within their dark brown depths. “We’ve been eagerly awaiting your arrival.”

“Senator.” Jyn bowed her head slightly. “I made all possible speed.”

“We know.” Leia smiled, and Jyn forgot her pretense for a moment. Her eyes widened and heart beat faster. It didn’t matter if that was meant as a plural ‘we’; in the moment, it sounded royal, and personal, and intimate. Leia moved forward before Jyn could recover her composure, to lay a hand on Jyn’s shoulder.

 _She’s so small,_ Jyn realised. She had to look down to continue meeting Leia’s intense eyes. _She doesn’t seem like she’s so short._

“I’m sure we’ll have plenty of time to get well-acquainted.” Leia squeezed Jyn’s shoulder (firm grip, and a slight rasp of fingers on fabric; Leia didn’t spend all day writing pretty speeches, with hands like that) and released it, leaving Jyn wanting. “Come; you must get settled in, and then bring me all the little news from home that nobody thinks to write holos about.”

Jyn was following her before she even realised what she was doing, falling into place half a pace behind her and to her right. “Of course, ma’am.”

“And do stop calling me by those titles,” Leia added crossly. She glanced back at Jyn and gave a quick smile, like she was sharing a secret. “We’ll be spending enough time together that you should call me by my name.”

“If you say so, se—Leia,” Jyn amended, at Leia’s glare. She smiled back, something just as fleeting, and was rewarded by a flicker of Leia’s hands in Alderaani sign: _Later_.

That promise could mean so many things. Jyn took a deep breath and quieted her heart. She was behaving in ways she’d long disparaged her marks for acting. She wasn’t a fool to lose her heart to someone she had only just met.

But, she had to admit, if she was going to? A princess senator of the rebellion wasn’t the worst choice she could make.

Jyn pushed her worries aside and let herself sink into Nari’s head for now, and began nattering about minor pieces of news from Alderaan as she walked into her new and complicated life.


End file.
